


A Girl Is Not Ready

by AryaxJaqen



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Arya's blind training, Braavos, F/M, Faceless Arya, Jaqarya, Romance, Shameless Smut, The Faceless Men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 05:06:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8609908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AryaxJaqen/pseuds/AryaxJaqen
Summary: I promised Patria a one shot story about Jaqen's mission in the house of love and pleasure but this little bit popped into my head when I was writting the promised one and it's shorter so this one goes first :) Since I've been awfully busy lately ( I love my job, I love my job, I love my job - whispers desperately) I post only first part today. Enjoy! I hope...:))I own nothing.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PatriaRoux](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatriaRoux/gifts).



> I promised Patria a one shot story about Jaqen's mission in the house of love and pleasure but this little bit popped into my head when I was writting the promised one and it's shorter so this one goes first :) Since I've been awfully busy lately ( I love my job, I love my job, I love my job - whispers desperately) I post only first part today. Enjoy! I hope...:))  
> I own nothing.

Arya Stark knocked softly at the door to the bathchamber. The door opened and she saw the Waif wrapped in her simple dark robe. A woman let her in and started to gather her clothes and other belongings scattered around the room, hair brushes, towels and bottles of coloured glass that kept her secret oils. She did something to her hair and now it was shiny as a copper and smelled of exotic flowers, she put red balm on her full lips and rouged her cheeks, her body glowed in a warm candlelight. Arya knew what it meant. The Waif was going to spend the night with Jaqen H'ghar. Again. A girl felt a sharp pang of jealousy. Jaqen had never let her into his bedchamber but the Waif was allowed to visit him once in a while and it seemed that the invitations became more frequent of late.

At first Arya didn't pay much attention to their night activities. She was too busy with training all days and too thankful that her days of hunger and homelessness were over. Jaqen was her friend and her mentor and it was good enough. A girl worshipped a man's brilliant mind , she yearned to learn of his wisdom ,his magic. She was fully aware of how handsome Jaqen was. Arya learnt that girls went crazy over him long time ago when she let her assassin out of that cage on their way to Harrenhal. When she came to Braavos she noticed the Waif staring longingly at Jaqen whenever she thought no one was looking at her but Arya did not care. She knew if the time would come Jaqen would kill for her again and it was all she wanted then. He made her feel safe. He made her brave.

However things had changed as the years went by. Arya knew Jaqen's face by heart but she developed a habit of studying his well known features during the long hours of the lessons he gave her on politics and languages of both Westeros and Essos. She could watch his mouth for hours speaking words in Dothraki or Valyrian , forming seductive phrases like they did in the city of Lorath. When they sparred it had gotten harder and harder for Arya not to stare at Jaqen's lean body which he moved with such a grace and not to think what that body could do to her. Jaqen didn't seem to share her sentiments though. On the contrary, since she flowered at the tender age of four and ten he had grown distant. He stopped visiting her chamber at night like he used to do when he started to teach her in the ways of Faceless. At the beginning she thought she had just improved so much than he didn't think it necessary any longer to wake her up in the middle of the night and question her identity. And that was his answer when she asked him but Arya knew there was something more to it. Soon it was the Waif who took time to teach a girl and other acolytes who sparred with her. After her fifteen name day Jaqen took one mission after another and she hardly saw him at all. When he came back a moon after the day she reached her age of seven and ten he barely noticed her and after the dinner they held to celebrate his return he rushed to his chambers taking the Waif with him.

And now that woman stood in front of Arya and only her robe reminded her of a humble servant of the Many Faced God. She donned the glorious necklace of gold and rubies and put beautiful snake shaped bracelets on her wrists. Did Jaqen bring her these things from his last journey ?

 

'The water is fresh and hot' The  Waif gestured at the bathtub 'Take your time, you must be exhausted. You did great today. You'll be better than me soon.'

 

She smiled at the girl with approval .

 

'Jaqen doesn't think so.' Arya said quietly and her voice sounded pitifully.

 

'Why do you think he makes me train you all days ?' The Waif gave her a careful look ' Do you think I have no better things to do ?'  She spoke softly.

 

Arya looked her up and averted her eyes quickly. The Waif certainly had better things to do that night. She looked like a queen ready to be welcomed by her king in his alcove.

 

'Why doesn't he train me himself like he used to do ?' A girl asked not daring to look the woman in the eyes. For both of them it was painfully obvious that she could not conceal her disappointment.

 

'Are you not happy with me ? Ungrateful child!' The Waif smiled gently. She reached out and touched the girl's arm comfortingly but Arya moved away from her.

 

'Don't say so ! I am not a child! And you are not him!'

 

'Him ?' The Waif chuckled.

 

'Don't speak to me the way he speaks... Don't pretend to be him...' Arya was close to tears now.

 

'Very well.' The Waif's voice was calm and quiet, almost a whisper 'He has other matters to attend to. Would you like his days to be full of Arya Stark when there are other people who need him ? Valar Dohaeris Arya Stark. Don't be selfish, girl.'

 

'What about his nights ?' Arya snapped but she felt a twinge of regret the moment the words had left her mouth. She bit her lip and lower her head in embarrassment.

 

Waif gently took her chin in her hand and lifted her head up.

 

'You are not ready' She said calmly looking straight in Arya's gray misty eyes.

 

'Ready for what ?' The girl asked in a small voice.

 

'For whatever he wants.' The woman said firmly and turn to leave .

 

'Please!' Arya tugged at her sleeve. 'What have I done ? He barely speaks to me... I disgust him! He can't even look at me...'

 

'You are not ready' The Waif shook her head. She took the hand that tried to stop her and put one of her bottles in Arya's palm. 'Fine, I'll ask him. Use this. If he agrees I will come for you.'


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, it happened. Chapter two, lovely people. Thank you for reading :) I would be very grateful if you could give me some feedback. Enjoy !

The Waif left and Arya carefully put the vial away. A girl shed her clothes and breathed in deeply. She shuddered despite the warmth of the steamy air surrounding the bathtub. First she dipped the tips of her small fingers to test the water and when she felt the balmy caress on her skin she slowly dipped her whole slender body. She leaned back and exhaled heavily , the water felt soothing and calming to her tensed muscles but her impatient heart would't slow down its pacing. Arya closed her eyes and thought of what was yet to come.

Would Jaqen be angry at her greedy pleading ? Would a girl disappoint him ? Arya wasn't afraid of his anger that much, the anger she would endure. She knew it sparked the sudden flame and died in a heartbeat followed by the word of caution, firm but soft spoken like an iron coin enveloped in velvet.

His disappointment in her, the girl feared , would set them apart.

The Waif's words rang in Arya's mind _you're not ready_ and she reached for that small bottle the woman had handed her before she left. It was tiny and blue, beautifully crafted in fragile glass. It appeared too fancy for the Waif's taste but what did a girl really know about the woman's taste ? As she took the cork off opening the vial she thought of the gold gracing the Waif's body that she hid so well under her plain robe...

Suddenly the sweetest intoxicating aroma of winter blue roses filled the girl's nostrils. Arya gasped as the image of Winterfell appeared in her mind : tall pines, gray stones , cold crisp air ,feather-light snowflakes and the softest petals of the frost coloured flowers. She trembled and tears welled up in her eyes. Tears, brought by the longing for home that she had learnt to forget. Tears, brought by the fear that Jaqen would cast her away, for he would know her weakness and then even worse insufferable longing would come, for she would never see him again.

She bit her lips to keep them from quivering and blinked her eyes to get rid of the blur. Her heart ached and she felt an intense flash of anger. Why did the Waif give Arya her own scent that night ? For that was what the girl was made of : stormy gray sky that one could see in her eyes , howling of northern winds that filled that wild heart , the sweetest caress of blue roses , love and beauty that she secretely treasured.

Did the Waif try to prove Arya Stark unworthy ? Did she want Jaqen to see that a girl was not ready ?

She lifted her chin up and her body tensed. Her fingers clenched involuntarily and she felt the glass crashing in her hand. She knew the drops of the Waif's precious mixture and of her own hot blood were dripping on the floor leaving marks of blue and red on the cold stones.

The pain came then and sobered her. Arya opened her hand and heard the quiet sound of shattered glass hitting the floor. She brought a hand to her eyes and carefully studied the lines on her palm. Those made by the broken glass and those she was born with : the strong life line , the love line now tainted in her own scarlet , the fate line crossed with a deep cut that would surely leave a scar. The girl dipped her hand in the bath , the water turned pink and she hissed in pain.

As she watched the water colouring, her thoughts wandered back to the night many moons ago when she sought comfort in solitude of the bath chamber.

 

_Jaqen had gone on a mission and they blinded her._

_For a long time she had been learning how to be one with darkness. How to walk, stone by stone , around the temple, fall by fall around Braavos and how to fight hit by hit, wound by wound._

_That night after the tremedously harsh training with the Waif she lay in a bath moaning quietly with the pain as the water washed over her bruised skin. She had no one to talk to. She felt the candles were burning around the place and her heart cried at the thought of the light._

_The silence broke with soft footsteps and Arya's sore muscles tensed, her hands balled into fists._

_Before she could make a move she felt a gentle touch on her arm and she breathed in a scent of ginger and cloves. Stunned, for she hadn't heard that he was back in the temple, she breathed out slowly. She felt his warm fingers dipped in healing oil following the path of bruises on her arms and then seeking for the wounds on the tender flesh of her back and her neck. His silken caressing touch kept on tracing her naked body erasing the memory of every hit she had earned herself that day._

_Arya leaned back and rested her head on the rim of the bathtub. She was perfectly aware of every inch of her exposed skin, her budding breasts and pink stiff nipples were barely covered by the water._

_When he was done with his ministrations she heard him putting a small object on the tiles by the bathtub, a clay vessel, she was sure, of healing oil._

_He didn't leave. She felt him leaning to her again. His hand rested lightly on her neck , his thumb caressed the line of her jaw. He tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear and gently traced the lines of her brows. Arya closed her unseeing eyes and felt the heat as he drew nearer. The tips of his long hair brushed her cheek and she felt the warmth of his breath, lemon and mint, over her parted lips. A man planted the lightest of kisses on each of her eyelids like velvety blue rose petals falling on her skin._

_Arya sighed and searched for his hand to pull him closer but he was out of her reach._

 

_'A girl must rest ' he purred, his voice deep and sweet as honey._

 

_She tilted her head in his direction._

 

_'Please, don't go Jaqen' she whispered but he was already gone._

 

_That night Arya Stark didn't dream her wolf dreams but those of different nature._

 

_The next day on her training hour Arya beat the Waif. Her sheer passion against the woman's skillfulness , a force of nature against control. She stood towering over the woman's form stretched out on the floor. And she took pride in that._

_When they were finished, the Waif got up and waited for a moment regarding the girl before she left her._

_Arya then heard rapid footsteps and soon the acolyte was next to her, breathing heavily and she sensed a hand reaching out. She took what she was offered, a cup. Arya shut her blind eyes._

_The punishment._

_The girl hesitated for a brief moment **fear cuts deeper than swords** before she slowly sipped the liquid. The bitterness of the potion burned her tongue, her heart was pounding. Finally, confident she could maintain her control, she carefully lifted her eyelids._

_Arya thought the light sliding into her eyes was the most beautiful thing and she saw Jaqen's face before her, clouded with concern._

_Hard as she tried, she couldn't force a smile on her face and soon her shoulders begin to shake as tears of joy and relief were running down her cheeks._

_She saw he relaxed and his lips broke into a teasing smile, with one corner hinting upwards. A man waved his hand and the acolyte followed him to leave the training room._

_Left to herself the girl felt ashamed at the sight of  the Waif's broken stick. She wiped her tears and picked the stick up from the floor and placed it along her own one on the stone bench in the corner of the training room._

_Arya had to wash it all away , the sweat and the pain of the combat , the days of blindness and the guilt she felt._

_She hoped to find the Waif too and speak to her but as she guided her light steps to the passage leading to the baths she found Jaqen waiting._

 

_'What are you doing here ? ' Arya stopped abruptly._

 

_The girl blushed as a flashback of last night conjured in her mind. And the dreams that followed. That moment when she could see him again, she felt more exposed despite the tunic and breeches she was wearing, than the night before when he gently tended to her wounds in the darkness._

_And there he was, ready to give another cure to another girl._

 

_'Waiting for you' he spoke softly, his eyes gleaming with amusement and the slightest suggestion of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth._

 

_He held out his hand and she saw a small clay vessel in his palm._

 

_'A man thinks perhaps a girl wants to apologize and help' Arya bit her lip with embarrassment and nodded._

 

_She took the vessel from his hand and he walked away._

 

_The next day when the girl woke up and tried to find him they told her he left Braavos._

 

 

Arya sighed heavily, reliving the memory in her mind. She rested her head and lay with her eyes shut.

Something shifted. The girl reached her hand out _quick_ _as a snake_ and closed her slim fingers around a small strong wrist.

 

'Good' The Waif's voice raised with pride ' I taught you well'

 

Arya opened her eyes and released the woman's hand leaving rusty marks on her skin. The Waif arched her brow at the girl.

 

'What's this ? '

 

'I broke it. I'm sorry' Arya looked up at the Waif's creased forehead and pursed lips.

 

'Do you still _need_ to see him ? ' The woman asked with a smirk.

 

'Yes...'

 

'Why ? ' She insisted.

 

'To speak to him' _because he's mine._

 

'A lie.'

 

There was something in the Waif's voice that the girl couldn't name. Was it worry or warning she couldn't tell.

 

'You're not ready' Arya bit her lip but held the Waif's stare.

 

'Very well , Arya Stark' The woman nodded and handed Arya the linen ' Come with me. A man is waiting for you.'


End file.
